


A Toast to the Fallen

by nerdyydragon



Series: Kingsman Tumblr Ficlets [6]
Category: Kingsman (2014), Kingsman (2015), Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Agent Gareth! Eggsy, Agent!Eggsy, Arthur is douche whether it's Chester King or not I guess, M/M, Same-Age Hartwin, i touch on the end of a torture scene but it isnt anything graphic and we only see the end result, minor depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 20:17:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8071252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdyydragon/pseuds/nerdyydragon
Summary: "Highest Level of Discretion" occasionally means leaving a man behind. Eggsy doesn't agree.





	

**Author's Note:**

> All rights to any recognizable content goes to Mr. Vaughn and any of his collaborators.

It was rare that Kingsman sent in another agent as retrieval. More often than not, it was deemed too risky to the security of the agency itself, and all agents were trusted not to spill secrets, no matter what torture they were put under. In situations such as these, the reigning Arthur waited for contact from the MIA agent for no less than a fortnight but no longer than a month, and if a signal never came, trials were held and a toast drunk.

Eggsy didn’t like that policy. He understood it, of course, and knew well the hazards of employment in a secret service who operated at the highest levels of discretion. But milling around waiting for a phone call from his (admittedly very recent) partner? That just wasn’t on. Harry had been due back from Cuba nine days ago, and so far hadn’t let them know why he missed his rendezvous with the Kingsman jet. Eggsy had only been on English soil for two days and was already anxious, since nobody had known to inform him that he was missing until he found out in passing from Bors.

Both of them were young and, despite their prowess in the field, neither of them believed the old sod who had become Arthur following Chester King’s death on V-Day (see: Eggsy swearing allegiance to the ghost of a man not much older than himself who hadn’t deserved to die at the hands of a genius megalomaniac with a soft stomach) liked them all that much. Maybe it had to do with their being happy while the man was alone and cynical. Maybe it had to do with the fact that they were in a relationship, hovering quietly amongst individuals, many of whom had grown up believing that such emotions as theirs were wrong. It was quite possible that these things stood as strikes against Harry, and in all likelihood the new Arthur may not wait long enough to know whether or not he was alive. Eggsy had to do something.

“Merlin,” bursting through the door to the tech department where he knew the Scot would be, he surveyed the bustle of people running back and forth between computers and odd-looking machines, gadgets, and other strange things. Spotting his bald head and tartan jacket across the room, Eggsy picked his way across, avoiding techs carrying dangerous looking vials that could possibly be explosive. “I need a favour.”

“That is one of the many phrases in which I never wanted to hear come out of your mouth.” The Scot pursed his lips and quirked and eyebrow. “What is it, lad.”

“Do you still have a fix on Harry’s tracker?”

—–

An hour later, after rigorous data triangulation and passing of information, Eggsy was on an unsanctioned flight across the globe.

“Now, lad, we don’t quite know how they managed to get him, only that he was taken and that unless he’s been completely strip-searched the tracker in his belt buckle should still be in place. Be careful, you don’t know what condition you’ll find him in.” Despite the man’s soft, professional tone, Eggsy knew that he was just as worried about Harry as he was. “Get our man back, Gareth.”

“Will do, sir.”

The comms were silent after that, the only evidence that Merlin was still on the other end was the occasional muttering and a reminder that he shouldn’t give a direct address to the cabby he snagged at the airport.

Entering the industrial area, Eggsy surveyed the buildings around him, trying to pinpoint which one was where he needed to be.

“Two blocks ahead, on your right.” Eggsy pretended to check his phone until he was sure the cabby couldn’t see him, then turned on his heel and jogged up the road. The building itself didn’t stand out, made of harsh cement blocks and looked very much like it could have been a prison in a former life, were it not for the massive smokestacks that protruded against the skyline.

“If you walk down the left-hand side of the building, near the north corner there will be a service door. Take it, and from there I can guide you to where Harry should be.” Eggsy could hear him tapping away on his keyboard over the line. “I’ve taken the liberty of activating a new feature we’ve been developing. Press and hold the catch next to the left lens, if you’d be so kind.” Eggsy watched as his vision became tinted in blues and greens.

“Heat sensing? That is sick.” Eggsy grinned and pushed open the door in front of him.

“It shouldn’t obscure your view of your actual surroundings too much. I’m going to need you to give me feedback on it.” Eggsy chuckled as he rounded a corner, following the stairs downwards to where there seemed to be three brightly lit blobs, a fourth that was slightly cooler colours and hunched over on itself, but still very much yellows and reds, which meant that whoever it was, they were still alive.

“Love being a guinea pig for R'nD. I think I got him.”

“Good. I’m going to scan the building, see if I can pick up anyone else, but from our Intel it seems abandoned so hopefully there aren’t many people here to cause you trouble.”

Eggsy silently padded down corridors and stairwells, careful of possible blind spots where he might be seen. Stopping outside the door near the bottom, he listened.

“For the last time, tell us who you are and what you’re doing here.” The accent wasn’t local, but it still has the island vibe to it. Silence met the statement, followed by the sound of a fist hitting skin and a series of bit off grunts. Eggsy grit his teeth.

“The door won’t be locked, they aren’t expecting him to escape.” Came Merlin over his comm link. “Feel free to kick it in whenever you feel it’s prudent.” Eggsy huffed, cocked his gun, and hefted all his weight behind thrusting his heel towards the ball of the door. It opened with a bang, and he fired off three quick rounds, effectively eliminating hostiles.

“Hope you didn’t need any of them alive,” he offered as the figure before him forced himself to sit up.

“Eggsy?” He croaked, his voice hoarse. Eggsy made a valiant effort at smiling as he knelt in front of Harry’s prone figure. “Did Arthur send you?” Leave it to Harry to be worried about his job at a time like this. Eggsy cupped a hand on the man’s chin gently, and watched as he nuzzled into it to press a kiss to his palm.

“Fuck Arthur. Wanker’d let you die out here if he could. You know how he feels about people like us.” Harry’s eyes widened and he struggled to keep Eggsy in his line of sight, even as he twisted around him and began cutting through the ropes with a knife procured from his inside breast pocket.

“Then how -” Eggsy pulled him to his feet and kissed him softly, careful of his split lip.

“I’ll explain everything on the flight home, luv. Can you walk?” Harry nodded slowly, as though he was unsure. He took a few steps without stumbling, but Eggsy wrapped his arm around the man’s waist regardless.

“There aren’t any more hostiles on the premises, but I would move quickly just in case. I’ve notified your pilot telling him to fly low in case any of Harry’s injuries have resulted in internal bleeding, but provided nothing is too serious he should be fine until you both get back to HQ.” Merlin chimed.

“Top, thanks.”

The two men made their way out of the building and back to the small private airport, where they were escorted to their plane and were shortly on their way home.

“Alright Merlin, we’re in the air now, so you can sign off and go do whatever else it is you have to do.” He had just finished saying this when a message popped up on his lens screen. “Any idea what the table meeting - to which I will either miss or be extraordinarily late to, by the way - is supposed to be about?”

“Nae, but I’ll keep you posted.” Merlin signed off, and neither heard from him until they touched down, dozing in their chairs, fingers linked over the side table for the remainder of the flight.

“It’s about Harry,” came the small green print rolling up his lens. “Apparently we’re going to toast him.” Eggsy could feel his anger rising.

“That prick,” he hissed, and Harry turned to look at him. “How quickly can you move? Because we need to make it to the dining room.” Harry’s expression turned hard, knowing what was going on immediately.

Moving as quickly as Harry’s injuries would allow them, they made their way across HQ to the office sector.

“It is with deep regret that I call this meeting,” Arthur’s voice floated from behind the door. “But we’ve gathered today to toast to Agent Galahad.” Eggsy knocked briskly on the door three times before he pushed both heavy oak panels open, revealing himself and Harry.

“It seems like no matter what happens,” Harry said sweetly, stepping around him. “You just can’t seem to be rid of me, sir.” The new arrivals took their places at the table as though they were merely late instead of arising from the dead.

“You’re alive?” Arthur squawked, alarmed at being caught out in not only toasting before minimum time limit, but wrongly assuming as well. Harry tilted his head across the table to Eggsy.

“With respect, you seemed to have underestimated not only my own skills, but those of my boyfriend as well. I hope it won’t happen again.” Harry eyed the decanters thoughtfully. “But it is good to be home.”


End file.
